s. Josephine's very
loveliness of person and of character was to her the occasion of many
hours of heaviness. No one could be insensible to the power of her
attractions. The music of her voice, the sweetness of her smile, the
grace of her manners, excited so much admiration, invested her with a
popularity so universal and enthusiastic, that Napoleon was, at times,
not a little disturbed by jealousy. Her appearance was ever the signal
for crowds to gather around her. The most distinguished and the most
gallant men in France vied with each other in doing her homage. Some of
the relatives of Napoleon, envious of the influence she exerted over her
illustrious spouse, and anxious, by undermining her power, to subserve
their own interests, were untiring in their endeavors to foster all
these jealousies. Josephine was exceedingly pained by the occasional
indications of her husband's distrust. A word from his lips, a glance
from his eye, often sent her to her chamber with weeping eyes and an
aching heart. An interview with her husband, however, invariably removed
his suspicions, and he gave her renewed assurances of his confidence and
his love.

The plans of Napoleon in reference to his future operations were still
in a state of great uncertainty. His restless spirit could not brook
inactivity. He saw clearly that the time had not yet come in which he
could, with the prospect of success, undertake to overthrow the
Revolutionary government and grasp the reins of power himself. To use
his own expressive language, "The pear was not yet ripe." To one of his
intimate friends he remarked, "They do not long preserve at Paris the
remembrance of any thing. If I remain any length of time unemployed, I
am undone. The renown of one, in this great Babylon, speedily supplants
that of another. If I am seen three times at the opera, I shall no
longer be an object of curiosity. You need not talk of the desire of the
citizens to see me. Crowds, at least as great, would go to see me led
out to the scaffold. I am determined not to remain in Paris. There is
nothing here to be done. Every thing here passes away. My glory is
already declining. This little corner of Europe is too small to supply
it. We must go to the East. All the great men of the world have there
acquired their celebrity. We will go to Egypt."

Such was the grandeur of the dreams of a young man who had not yet
passed his twenty-sixth year. And these were not the musings of a wild
a